s to continue his traditions of
conspiracy and intrigue. None perhaps so ingenuous as himself, none
with the same daring and good luck perhaps, but still a number of ardent
fools only too ready to follow in the footsteps of their chief. Then
there's the halo of martyrdom around the murdered hero, the enthusiasm
created by his noble death... Nay! nay, Citizen, you have not lived
among these English people, you do not understand them, or you would not
talk of sending their popular hero to an honoured grave."

But Collot d'Herbois only shook his powerful frame like some big, sulky
dog, and spat upon the floor to express his contempt of this wild talk
which seemed to have no real tangible purpose.

"You have not caught your Scarlet Pimpernel yet, Citizen," he said with
a snort.

"No, but I will, after sundown to-morrow."

"How do you know?"

"I have ordered the Angelus to be rung at one of the closed churches,
and he agreed to fight a duel with me on the southern ramparts at that
hour and on that day," said Chauvelin simply.

"You take him for a fool?" sneered Collot.

"No, only for a foolhardy adventurer."

"You imagine that with his wife as hostage in our hands, and the whole
city of Boulogne on the lookout for him for the sake of the amnesty,
that the man would be fool enough to walk on those ramparts at a given
hour, for the express purpose of getting himself caught by you and your
men?"

"I am quite sure that if we do not lay hands on him before that given
hour, that he will be on the ramparts at the Angelus to-morrow," said
Chauvelin emphatically.

Collot shrugged his broad shoulders.

"Is the man mad?" he asked with an incredulous laugh.

"Yes, I think so," rejoined the other with a smile.

"And having caught your hare," queried Collot, "how do you propose to
cook him?"

"Twelve picked men will be on the ramparts ready to seize him the moment
he appears."

"And to shoot him at sight, I hope."

"Only as a last resource, for the Englishman is powerful and may cause
our half-famished men a good deal of trouble. But I want him alive, if
possible..."

"Why? a dead lion is safer than a live one any day."

"Oh! we'll kill him right enough, Citizen. I pray you have no fear. I
hold a weapon ready for that meddlesome Scarlet Pimpernel, which will be
a thousand times more deadly and more effectual than a chance shot, or
even a guillotine."

"What weapon is that, Citizen Chauvelin?"

Chauvelin leaned